Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

I looked back at him, and my stomach twisted.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need something.

Someone to fill that glaring void that was so obviously radiating within him.

And with every layer that was exposed, more and more I wanted to be that person.

“I’ve got her,” he grumbled barely above his breath when I attempted to help him get her out of the backseat of my car.

A calm stillness held fast to the cool air, daybreak just a hint of a blaze that lifted from the horizon. Glittering rays chased away the night and lit the sky in pinks and oranges and a welcoming blue.

The day brand new.

Bursting with possibilities.

“At least let me get the door open for you.” I said it with zero frustration when I wrenched free the keys he had clutched in his hand and quietly climbed the porch steps.

Somehow, I’d come to understand this man felt he needed to do things on his own.

Or maybe he’d just been forced into that role, and he knew nothing else.

Behind me, I could feel them, this buzz of energy that emanated from their skin. It made me feel as if I stood at the very edge of something magnificent, a stranger peering in to witness something pure and absolute. Alive and profound. A thriving force that threatened to suck me into its depths.

Sliding the key into the lock, I turned the lever and opened the door, standing aside as he headed straight through, his long legs eating up the floor as he disappeared down the hallway.

I wavered there, my mind flashing back to two nights ago when he’d had me pinned just inside. The memory spun around me, that fury that had been so blatantly evident.

Almost as acute as the brokenness that had seeped from his flesh and poured into mine.

Nearly as intense as the desire that had lashed between us.

I didn’t even know him, and the man was so mesmerizingly conflicted that he had me overwhelmed with the need to step closer. To dip my fingers in to explore and discover.

But it was more than that. There was something about him that made me ache. Something that made my chest and my spirit and my stomach revolt at the thought of walking away.

Sucking in a breath, I came to a quick decision. Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me and crept down the hall, unable or maybe unwilling to stop myself from peering through the doorway into Frankie’s room.

My insides trembled as I watched them.

Rex carefully laid her in her bed. Gently, he brushed the chaotic tangle of hair from her forehead. His gaze was so tender when he stared down at her trusting face, his spirit so soft when he edged forward and brushed a kiss to one of her rosy, plump cheeks.

My throat thickened, and I clung to the jamb.

Enthralled and transfixed.

God.

This. Man.

He was undoing something inside me.

Uncovering something I’d never even realized I wanted.

Slowly, he stood. His body seemed so big in the emerging day, the raw strength of him wrapping me in chains. When he shifted, those eyes locked on me, his shadowy figure moving my direction.

I struggled to find air. Reason.

I fumbled a step back into the hallway, fortifying myself, never sure where his anger might take us or where this attraction might lead us.

He stopped in the doorway. His breaths short and heavy.

That same awareness flickered to life. Only this time, it seemed as if it’d gained power from the rising sun.

“Thank you.” The words landed on me like a rough caress.

“Of course. When I told you I thought you might need a friend, I meant it. That means if you need me . . . I’m here.”

He nodded, though it seemed reluctant. As if he were crossing an invisible line by agreeing. “Okay.”

I nodded back, shocked that he’d yielded. “Okay. I’ll . . . talk to you later. Just”—I fisted a hand over my heart—“please let me know if you or Frankie need anything at all. I’d really like to know how she’s doing. I know I’ll be thinking about her all day.”

With that, I turned and headed for the door. I needed to get out of there.

Clear my head of the foolish ideas that had begun to spin. This foolish impulse to jump into torrid waters when I couldn’t see the bottom. To sate the churning need that prodded at my consciousness.

Most of all, I wanted to respect him. The space he so clearly needed.

But I had no idea how that was going to work when it was starting to hurt when I walked away.

12

Rex

I watched her escaping down the hallway.

At least, that was what it felt like. Like she was fleeing. Putting as much space between us as possible.

She should.

Maybe she was smart enough to run from whatever steadily built in the atmosphere whenever we shared the same space.